


Woldmap

by lovenfall



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: I Wanted To Sound Poetic, M/M, been meaning to do this since forever, just alludes to the do do, n it's bad, not that mature tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 04:06:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13450188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovenfall/pseuds/lovenfall
Summary: Tonight Hanbin was all seas and continents and natural disasters.And he was holding Bobby responsible for all of it.





	Woldmap

**Author's Note:**

> I slammed my head on my keyboard and this came out

Tonight Hanbin was all seas and continents and natural disasters.

And he was holding Bobby responsible for all of it.

He'd always known that he were a force to be reckoned with in certain aspects of his life, but had he known that the unexplored depths of him possessed strength of this sort of caliber he wouldn't had let Bobby reach and grabbed for them so easily.

For the sake of them both. The sake that had been abandoned and long unforgotten on the side with scraps of clothing and garments the moment his seas began to rise and swell, and his continents gradually chiseled to pieces of hot and cold.

Making room for quakes and hurricanes.

His oceans lost their calm rhythm a little more every time he arched into disaster. And then they poured with careful chaotic grace into tall and brutal waves as he tripped over the calm shores that stirred under a mouth of great ruins.

 _Consume of me_ , he said to the world's demise. And consumed the world was. Lands and waters and fallen stars and all.

In those moments he were the embodiment of the great flood, and his spiraling seas trickled without an ounce of patience down the pale of his stomach like heavy rain, and shuddered with a thundering moan that struck the sensation of lightning along his cracking spine.

So hard, his head began to spin and lost grip of his details, and his eyes saw the stars that were picked out of his sands and tucked undersea- and also short black locks and luminescent copper skin that stretched generously over lightyears of hard muscle and smoothed curves of a hungry sun.

Like dipping the sun into the sea, he drowned Bobby. Destroying his destroyer who were easily as breathless as he, as drunk and intoxicated with the poisonous addictions of the world as he, and even more so the more he'd swallowed of Hanbin's turbulence.

The shuddering crash of his hot and cold tides that washed over glossed and swollen lips was merciless, and the sun grew dim with the thick flow of him embedding between slurred, greedy nipping teeth as if caressing past sea rocks and casting away sand.

Hanbin was seeing sunset, the glow that lined his sturdy silhouette. Was brushing his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp that kissed his fingers with melting heat.

Bobby was forced into gulping more of Hanbin than he could possibly take all at once, his tongue was stained with the dark depth of the pouring seas, his throat scratched by the stars, and his lungs washed with fresh salt and the pressure that chased away oxygen.

Corals found home in his torn throat, the weed dancing in his stomach sided with alarm and endearment. But still, Bobby swallowed, and swallowed like the sea swallowed him to his core.

And he swallowed more and hoped that it would chew, and claim and never spit him back out.

It never had.

Not even when Hanbin ran entirely out of himself to give, the globe slowed it's spin, and his bones cracked back into place. Pieces of his continents lulling into spot, still broken apart. _Ruined_.

The blue was gone, and so was the sun. The only remnants of him in his glory was his weight on the mattress and the dim moonlight that casted over his face and those shoulders through the blinds.

Even without his own light, he looked beautiful. 

But Hanbin was too spent to figure it out, to hollow Bobby out as much as he'd dug away his oceans. As much as he wanted to return the favour.

So instead he'd allowed Bobby the mere satisfaction of the outcome he were expecting the moment he'd come to find him in his room.

"I think I'm lost, 'Bin," The hyung had quietly explained after climbing the stairs of their dorm to come find Hanbin in his bed, busy rounding off his work for the night. "I want you to be my map."

And that Bobby made him to be, without giving sign of wanting anything in return. 

Better than any time he were ever supposed to know them, tonight he seemed to know east and west, and he also knew north, and _especially_ south.

He gave his leader everything that he were to take back later, then again, just so he could take everything he'd built back down _again_. To take Hanbin apart over, and over.

All the countries and islands he threaded together with thick calloused hands and a luscious mouth that mapped out every little detail that was Hanbin. Sailing his creases and praising his curves.

Savouring certain details that no one else ever got to see, the melodic sound of how he would shatter in his arms and drown in himself, and Bobby.

It was almost as if they were far apart from each other for a long time, pinned away by a distance and were in desperate need for closure.

Desperate to _taste_. To tear each other apart into the flaming end of a chapter with sticky and clumsy fingers.

Bobby had the clumsy fingers, but they still could make Hanbin yield and tremble. The simplest of touches, they were gorgeous, he would roll into them because his hyung was warm and full and was like _home_.

Every time the linings of his inked flesh was traced between rustles of sheets and clothes and falling pillows, delicate precision of density and scrapes of dull nails applied to the supple silk of his flesh, he would quiver and his toes would curl.

He were even given flowers, his vast lands combing with blooming colours with each tender fluttering kiss of his ending, giving his waters a dulcet hum and boil as they steadily rose, rose. And then toppled over.

It was too much and too little at the same time for the younger. And for a foreign moment he wanted it to stop.

He was afraid he might destroy himself before the other got his chance, but then he had a face full of pillows and bed sheets and his spine knew lingering kisses, and his hips dark suckled bruises, and then lower and then _fuck_ -

He'd forgotten entirely about decency and pride and sake.

All he could recognize was the great pulse in his nature, the oceans buzz throbbing for freedom within him, and that name that lathered thick over his tongue like layers of honey, and catastrophe.

Tonight he knew nothing more than how to be all seas and continents and natural disasters.

And Bobby knew that he was being held accountable for it.

But he still fucking loved it.

**Author's Note:**

> I was going end it with "he fucking loved geography". jsyk
> 
> comment, kudos, 5 stars on yelp! if you wanna...


End file.
